


Warm

by poetdameron



Series: Jonerys Week 2017 [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Day One, F/M, Fluff, Jonerys Week, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 01:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12180243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/pseuds/poetdameron
Summary: Three days had passed since Bran told him his true origin, and two had gone by after he had called up his bannermen and Daenery’s armies to prepare a plan and get ready, for the Dead were marching from Eastwatch. He had felt her stare on him during the whole reunion, everyone seeming to mind the way he had refused to look at her more than necessary.





	Warm

**Author's Note:**

> I know it sounds sad, but it isn’t. I swear. This was made for Jonerys Week, day 1: Fluff. Also, Dany/Arya interaction was totally inspired by late night conversations with queerafdonna back in tumblr.
> 
> Please keep in mind I'm not a native english speaker, english is my third lenguage and I learned it by my own (meaning, no paid classes, no classes in school), and I don't have a beta. I'm still in need/searching for one, but for the time being, this is unbetaed.
> 
> Last, if you have tumblr and you liked this, please support me by reblogging the [original post](http://poetdameron.tumblr.com/post/165700994199/warm-jonerys-got-fic-jonerys-week)!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Warm**

Winter had never been this cruel, Jon concluded as he recalled every season at top of The Wall and beyond it. He remembered the outstanding chill of his every step in the True North and the way it forged him different until he didn’t felt the cold anymore.

Not until now, at least.

Perhaps it wasn’t just the weather, he realized as he walked pass soldiers and curious faces, Ghost at his side like he has been ever since he returned home. They went down Winterfell, searching for answers again.

Three days had passed since Bran told him his true origin, and just two had gone by after he had called up his bannermen and Daenery’s armies to prepare a plan and get ready, for the Dead were marching from Eastwatch, Tormund on his way back with the very few men left, and the world seeming to come to an end.

He had felt her stare on him during the whole reunion, everyone seeming to mind the way he had refused to look at her more than necessary. It wasn’t his intention to be a show for anyone, the few that know his birth-name and birthright should remind as much, and he was— he wasn’t ready to face the rest of it.

Down in the crypts was silent, somehow warmer than the rest of the halls, and there he could rest his mind and hide from whoever wanted to approache him. Or that was the intention today, until soft steps and whispers stopped his walking towards Aunt Lyanna’s —his mother’s— crypt.

“That’s her.” He heard Bran’s monotone voice. “Aunt Lyanna.”

Whoever he was talking to stepped in, walked slowly, probably to watch her statue closer. “She’s beautiful.” Said Daenerys’s voice and Jon swallowed, wanting to turn around and leave, but his feet didn’t respond. Ghost sat down at his side, looking up, like encouraging him to walk over and be part of whatever Bran and Da—

“My Lord Father used to say, I was like his sister.” Arya said, and Jon blinked a couple of times. Could it be his blood calling his mother, that he and Arya would had grown so close since she had been just a babe?

“Indeed.” There was a smile in Daenerys’s voice and Jon sighed realizing how well he has come to know her voice. If he had been seeing her, he may recognize what she was feeling, maybe even what she was thinking. “Beautiful, definitely.”

Arya giggled. The sound made his heart beat faster. She had always been a friendly girl, and the thought of she growing into a friendly woman made him happy. Bran had changed so much, he was barely recognizable from the little kid that had trained with them before, and Sansa had to grow too much from her age in order to survive.

His little sister had changed, too. None of them would ever be the same, but it was a relief to know Arya’s good heart reminded.

“You just say that because I look like Jon.” Arya joked, Daenerys’s laugh echoed in the crypts and Jon waited.

“Was Lady Lyanna like this, too?” She asked, probably to Bran. “Did she not accept a compliment?”

“She did.” Bran answered. “It’s just that Arya has a point.”

“Oh!” Daenerys exclaimed, Arya laughed louder. “And I thought you did not had a sense of humor.”

“Is it humor when it’s true?” He insisted. “Perhaps yes, since I agree with your Grace. You are beautiful, Arya. You’ve become a beautiful Lady.”

“And you as charming as our brother.” She bit back, it almost sounded like their banters from when they were younger and Arya would beat Bran at archery.

They went silent then, and Jon turned over, ready to leave and left them to their conversation. Ghost didn’t move with him, he stayed put as if waiting for him to change his mind and stop hiding. His red eyes looked right into his and he swallowed, his companion always seemed to know what was going trough his mind, even if he couldn’t voice it as people would.

“This is our Father.” He heard Arya and Jon swallowed, silently walking to Ghost who moved his tail before standing and walking at his side. “What do you think?” She murmured.

“I...” Daenerys didn’t say more.

Jon licked his lips as his steps got him closer to them, Arya looked back first, hands on her back, and smiled softly when she saw his face. Bran and Daenerys looked then, his expression was vacant and hers curious, a bit surprised.

“You made no sound...” Murmured the Queen, Arya shook her head.

“He’s been creeping on us for minutes. Glad to know you decided to join us at least.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Come with me?” Arya asked Bran, he only nodded. “Dine with us later, Jon.” She said, pushing Bran in front of her. “You can’t hide forever.”

His chest felt heavy, “Arya.”, every beat of his heart hurt as she turned around and waited.

Jon didn’t had any words left, hadn’t know what to say since he heard the truth from Bran, so he walked to his little sister —cousin, family she was— and kissed her forehead.

Bran had tried to assured him he was still Jon, “ _you are who you are”_ , he had said with no expression. This time, when Jon looked at him, his eyes weren’t so dead and Jon wished he could smile again. Bran had been the sweetest child, always happy and with an easy laugh, and he had suddenly become more than a man, even if so young still.

“I’ll see you later.” He decided, one hand on Bran’s head. He could swear he almost saw his brother smile.

Arya nodded to him and turned to Daenerys. “You too, you should keep dining with us. It’s fun to see someone make Sansa act like Mother.”

“Arya...” Daenerys murmured, amusement trapped in her voice. “Thank you. To both of you.” She said.

Bran shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He answered and Arya nodded to her before going back to push Bran out the crypts. “Can you take me to the Godswood?”

“Of course...”

Their voices died as they got farter and Jon looked at Daenerys from the corner of his eyes. She didn’t mind him, probably angry at him for ignoring her for three days straight after they had shared most nights coming here. He’ll be frustrated, too, and he hoped to find it in him to explain himself.

“Oh, hello.” He heard her saying. When he looked around, she was leaning down towards Ghost. “You’re beautiful!”

It didn’t occur to him he hadn’t had time to introduce the two of them since Bran had delivered news after news, and his happiness of seeing his siblings alive and well only lasted as much. He and Daenerys hadn’t been alone in as long, and Ghost had been glued to his side since he stormed to his chambers to be by himself after Bran and Sam’s story.

She looked content while stroking Ghost’s fur as the wolf moved his tail, like a happy dog. The fact that she hadn’t been scared of him at all was endearing to him and Jon wondered if this is how she had felt when Drogon had let him touch his snout.

“His name is Ghost.” He finally said, his voice sounding like a whisper, like if he hadn’t use it in days. And in a way, maybe he hadn’t; maybe he had started talking different to her and only now he had noticed. “He seems to like you.”

“What?” She looked up with a big smile. “He usually doesn’t like people? Hard to believe, look at him...” Ghost was melting into her touch and he smiled, she was using both her hands to pet him now. “I’ve never seen a wolf so big before. When you mentioned him, I thought him a small animal like any other.”

“He’s a direwolf.” Jon explained. “There were six of them, we found them years ago when they were just pups. One for each Stark child.” He sighed, the memory now bittersweet for what and who was gone. “Ghost was the smaller one, weaker. Now is the only one.”

She looked up at him, then back at Ghost before standing and facing him with a firm face, waiting for him to say something else, to talk to her. Jon opened his mouth, although he didn’t had anything to say, and then closed it, eyes lowering to her hands.

“I’m sorry I interrupted.” He said. She offered him her hands and Jon put his over hers. “I see you and Arya have got used to each other.”

“She’s fantastic.” Daenerys answered, her voice so sweet. “Very curious, too. She has become good company.” Her thump caressed over his globed hand and Jon smiled after hearing that. “She’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Well—” His smile widened. “I shouldn’t, but I guess yes.”

“It doesn’t mean you love them any less.” She assured and he wondered if she was talking about this particular subject only. For the way Daenerys was looking at him when he finally glanced at her, he figured not. “They have been kind to me.”

“I’m glad...” He swallowed. “I’m so sorry I haven’t...”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jon frowned at that. “For what? I’m the one that ran, I—“

“Yes, but I let you go.” She guided his hands up to her, he could feel the warm of her breath as she talked. “I thought so many things I can’t speak of now, and none was fair. I know you, and I doubted you for a second too long. I’m sorry.” Her lips touched his fist, kissing it softly and making his stomach drop.

“I needed to be alone.” He insisted. “None it’s your fault, It’s… It’s been difficult to digest. I didn’t thought of what you may be feeling, I’m sorry.”

Daenerys smiled at him, letting go of his hands that quickly landed on her waist. Gods, he had missed her, all of her. The warm of her body, her perfume, her rare smiles, her laugh. She smiled, her whole face brightening.

“Are we going to be trapped in a circle of feeling sorry? Seeing who can apologize for this mess the most?”

Even if for a moment he questioned what was between them, she didn’t felt any different in his arms and he couldn’t see her as anything else but _Dany_ , the woman whose neck was sensitive and laughed easily if kissed on her belly, whose small feet he had kissed to her own surprise, who had kissed every scar on his body in return.

Jon shook his head and she sighed, part in relief. Licking her bottom lip, she lowered her eyes to his chest and her hand soon landed where his heart beat.

“You want me any less?” She asked in a thin voice, he didn’t like the sound of it.

“Never.” He answered after shaking his head. “Do you? Even knowing who fathered me and what claim I could have?”

By all means, he wasn’t hungry for any title. But he knew what importance the throne had in her plans, and while he didn’t doubt her commitment to save the realm from the death, there was still the chance he could represent an obstacle she deserved to know did not exist. He would never claim that throne, not for his own interest or desire.

Daenerys looked at him, there was a spark of disappointment in her eyes and he squeezed her waist, like trying to make her understand, to make her see the truth in his face. He just needed to know if it was somehow a problem to her.

“Is there a part of you that wants the throne? I don’t believe you.” She said instead. “Regardless of what I know from your mouth, I’ve seen your heart. I doubt that’s something you’d want.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She opened her mouth, then closed it. “But, aye. You are right.”

It was her who shook her head now. “You should want it, anyone would. Yet you don’t, you are not like any man I’ve ever known.” Her hands warmed his chest, caressing up and down slowly without looking at his face. “Which is why I’ve grow to love you...” She said in a murmur.

He grabbed her hands from his chest, making her look up to his face again and he hoped she would see everything she made him feel that he thought would never be for him. Ever since coming back, he had wanted every moment of him to be of use and her love was one of the very few things he wanted for _himself_ , not for anyone else but him to deserve and enjoy.

If any doubts creep on them, Jon wanted to erase it from her mind and claim her heart as she was offering with her words. So he kissed her, his arms rounded her waist as hers rounded his neck and Ghost’s pads sounded far away.

Jon had missed her lips, their moments alone. He shouldn’t had ignored her, but now he knew he didn’t want to let go ever again. If somehow he had been allowed to live again and found her when she had been on the other side of the sea, then he wasn’t wasting any second again.

Whatever it cost, he’ll pay any prize.

His mouth opened over hers, tenderly kissing his way in, her tongue recognizing him and allowing the exploration. She had told him a good kisser, and Jon had never thought of him as a man of ego, but every time she wore his arms and talked of his skills with delight, all of him felt full of power.

When they pulled apart, Jon rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, chest going up and down. Her hands returned to caress his chest and his lips went for a kiss, two, and one more before she talked again.

“You’ll rule with me.”

What case was in say otherwise? He looked into her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t renounce to her, nor see her married to another man. Jon nodded and her smile widened for a second, she swallowed visibly and he moved one of his hands to her cheek, thumb caressing her skin.

“I can’t give you children...” She reminded him, Jon couldn’t help but smile. “Jon, I mean it.”

He cradle her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “Have you ever hear the way you say my name?”

“What?”

“You make it sound important.” He closed his eyes and smiled, when he looked at her again she seemed confused. “I’ll rule with you.” He said, she swallowed again but never took her eyes off him. “We’ll survive this war and I’ll march south with you, whatever is necessary.” Daenerys looked around his face, stopping once more on his eyes, probably searching for doubt. But there was none in him now. “And you shouldn’t be so sure about what that witch said.”

“Jon...”

“It hasn’t been long yet.” He reminded her, she gave him a weak smile. “We’ll have plenty of time.”

She looked down for a second, then back at him with small smile, this time real, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. That was enough for him for the time being. Even if they never make a daughter or a son, his place was at her side for he wanted her, not the prospect of giving a heir.

Jon hopped she felt the same, although he knew she _was_ a mother. It would make him happy to be the one to father her blood children, in spite of every enemy, prophecy or witch.

Her eyes left his face and looked at his back, she smiled slightly and broke their embrace to walk in front.

“Even in stone, she’s beautiful.” She said and Jon looked up to Lyanna Stark’s grave. His mother. “You are all her.”

Which wasn’t wrong. He and Arya were the ones closer to Father’s looks, Arya always reminding him of his lost sister. Jon thought of his mother like he had since he was a child, and this time, he had a name and a face in the stone, but the image of Arya’s smile and Eddard Stark’s soft eyes.

“I’ve been so confused.” He rounded Daenerys’s waist from behind, her back against his chest. “I used to dream of her, when I was younger. Always highborn… beautiful and kind. Seems like I wasn’t so lost.” She leaned into his chest, her hands over his as she sighed. “Makes me wonder… what would she think of me now, had she lived long enough to be here?”

“She’d love you.” Daenerys answered. “What a man you are, so humble and yet fierce. She’d be proud of you.”

He said nothing, trying to imagine what his mother’s voice sounded like and if her eyes sparkled with mischief while messing up her dress and hair like Arya’s did. It still made him uneasy that he would never know, no matter what Bran had offered to say from his visions. Jon hide his face on Daenerys’s neck and shoulder and he heard her laugh before her fingers touched his hair.

“You’re warm.” She said with a soft sigh. “I’ve missed you at night.”

He chuckled in her neck and kissed a spot with a noisy motion. “I thought you said you were a dragon, therefore the winter wouldn’t touch you.”

“The north is true to its sayings, I’ve never felt a cold like this.” She sighed and moved her head to face him. Jon pecked her lips before she could keep talking. “Dine with us tonight, then come to me.”

“Of course.” He kissed her again and this time parted from her when she started to laugh, he tried to give her his best indignant stare. “We shouldn’t… we shouldn’t be talking of such things in here.”

“Oh.” He looked up at his father behind him and then to his mother in front and nodded, leaving her to walk away from him. She took his hand then and waited. “I’ll be there.”

“You better.” She said, tugging at his hand so he would walk at her side. “Let’s allow us at least tonight, tomorrow we’ll be closer to war.”

She glanced one last time to his mother’s stone and then smirked up at him, Jon could see Ghost waiting for them at the entrance.

“So, I heard interesting stories from your sister.” She said. “Like how you would struggle with dancing and pretend to forget you had lessons with your brother.”

“Gods be good...”

“Jon Snow, are you bad at dancing?”

He sighed, Ghost stood and shook his large body before yawning. “Ghost, to me.” And the wolf ran to his side, Daenerys laughed at the other, waiting for his answer. “I make up for that in other things.”

“Such as…?”

He smirked at her, having to let go of her hand for they were about to face the rest of Winterfell. “I’ve been told I got a wicked tongue.”

Daenerys’s cheeks went pink and she shook her head with smile on her face, but didn’t fight him on that either.

**~0~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Maybe I'll see you at [my tumblr](http://poetdameron.tumblr.com/)? Have a good day!
> 
> Next up: Day 2, favorite scene. Cracked. Insight of Daenerys's feelings as Jon sleeps after Eastwatch.


End file.
